Eternal Enchantress
by TaleBearer
Summary: Sequel to Eternal Eclipse. Held captive by the Captain and his men, Julia must find a way to thwart their plans, free Ardeth Bey, and stop Miss Dumont's scheme to resurrect Imhotep.


**ETERNAL ENCHANTRESS** **PART ONE** Julia sat atop the camel, feeling ill and frightened and furious. Not an altogether unexpected frame of mind while being forced to endure the endless jerking and snorting and braying of some of Nature's nastier creatures. The camels were bad enough. She couldn't imagine three men she'd rather see dead more than the Captain, Thomas, and DiPaglia. Thinking of them as her armed escort had long since lost the quality of either comfort or amusement. Be careful what you wish for, the saying went. Here she was, riding out into the Sahara again in the black of night, determined to find the man she loved. What a pity she did so under the cold eyes and loaded pistols of the enemy. Routier rode alongside her. He sat easily in his saddle, keeping his camel in line with the occasional tap from the prod. Other than carrying out the Captain's orders regarding her capture and confinement, he'd been a perfect gentleman. What he was doing in the company of swine like the other three baffled her. His manners and speech showed refinement and education. His hazel eyes, the light brown of his skin, and the fullness of his lips showed his mixed blood. In this part of the world, that was viewed with great disfavour. And yet he conducted himself like a man born to a better life than being a soldier of fortune. What had Routier done that he now rode into the Sahara on business that would surely end in blood? DiPaglia had been cursing his camel in a nearly ceaseless monotone since they'd left Cairo. His latest burst of multilingual invective prompted a rich laugh from Routier. "Camels are like women, mon ami," Routier said. "Stroke them, speak to them softly, and sooner or later they will do as you wish." "Hah!" DiPaglia spat in the sand. "Stupid, stubborn, ugly, bad-tempered. They don't do nothing 'til you beat them widda stick!" "Tell me, Mr. DiPaglia," Julia said. "Is there a Mrs. DiPaglia?" "No!" "Why am I not surprised?" DiPaglia scowled at her. Before he could reply, Routier cut in. "What do you think of camels, mademoiselle? Are they more like men or women?" "Camels strike me as being astonishingly similar to men," Julia replied. "They come and go as they please. When thwarted they make loud bellowing noises. They stink, they make a mess wherever they go, and they're not fit to be ridden by ladies." Too late Julia realized the scandalous undercurrent to her last remark. She tried to control her rising color. "Mais oui!" Routier grinned broadly, baring his fine white teeth. "Tell me, mademoiselle, if you despise camels so much, what do you prefer to ride?" "A horse will do." Julia longed to vanish over the next dune. Thomas shot her a leer. "More like a Med-Jai stallion, I'm thinking. All black, lots of muscle, likes to ride at night?" He elbowed DiPaglia, who nodded. "Si, si. She might be inna saddle, but he's still the one holding the reins!" Julia bit her tongue, struggling to deny them the reaction they so obviously wanted. Aware of Routier watching her, she composed herself, a considerable effort given the question she was about to ask. "Which one of you bloodthirsty bastards killed Mohammed?" Thomas' pale eyebrows shot upward. "Such language! Who's this Mohammed, then?" "The tallest of my four bodyguards." Julia's voice started to shake. She clenched her teeth and forced out the words. "One of you shot him so many times you blew him straight through my front door." Thomas squinted up at the night sky for a moment, then grinned. "Oh yeah. The big raghead. That'd be me, then." Julia let out her breath. "Thank you, Mr. Thomas. I shall remember that." "Oh really?" "Yes, really." Julia turned around in her saddle, glaring at him with the full force of her loathing. "Nasty little men like you always get their comeuppance." She smiled. "Always." Thomas kicked his camel into a trot that brought him up alongside Julia. "Let me ask you a question, Miss Priss. Did the Med-Jai teach you any tricks? These Arabs, they keep so many women the gals better know a trick or two to get their man's attention!" Julia gripped the front of her saddle so tightly she bruised her palm. If Thomas said one word more, one single word, she'd throw herself at him in a blind rage. "What's this?" Thomas leaned over to peer down at Julia's hand. Her left hand, where she wore the ring Ardeth Bey had given her. Even in the faint starlight, the agates gleamed. Thomas whistled. "Now ain't that pretty. DiPaglia! Take a look at this." DiPaglia caught up. He looked the ring over and muttered to himself in rapid Italian. "That's family work. They don't sell those to nobody." "Well then!" Thomas grinned. "That'll make a nice little souvenir." His hand shot out, grimy fingers closing around Julia's left wrist. She jerked away from him. Only his grip on her wrist kept her from tumbling out of the saddle. "Touch this ring," Julia hissed, "and I will kill you." "With what?" Thomas jeered. "Your bare hands?" "Captain!" Julia shouted. "Make this dog of yours heel before one of us gets hurt!" The Captain reined in, glancing back. "Let her go, Thomas." Thomas' grip tightened. A tendon popped in Julia's wrist, making her cry out. The Captain scowled. "That means now, Thomas! Take rear guard. Jack, you keep an eye on Miss Lawrence." Thomas released Julia, muttering to himself as he fell back alongside DiPaglia. Routier coaxed Julia's mount along beside his until they rode side by side again. "Are you well, mademoiselle?" Routier asked. "Did he hurt you?" Her wrist ached, but Julia shook her head. "I'm fine." "That ring must mean a great deal to you, mademoiselle." Julia said nothing. She closed the fingers of her right hand over her left, cradling Ardeth's ring against her heart. "From your fiancé?" A jolt of fear shot through Julia, even though that was precisely what she meant the men of Cairo to think. She nodded. Routier gave her his bright smile. "A lucky man, mademoiselle." Julia stared at him, puzzled by this seemingly genuine display of concern. "How can you say that, when you know he's as good as dead and so am I?" "Tut tut, mademoiselle! Do not distress yourself!" Routier reached across her, pretending to examine part of her camel's bridle. That brought him close enough to speak in an undertone. "I do not like what I am hearing from le Capitaine. This is a bad business. Perhaps you and I might come to some arrangement." Seized with both hope and trepidation, Julia tried to keep her astonishment off her face. "An arrangement? Of what sort?" Routier turned his smile up to the stars. "There is something I might ask of you. We will speak of that when the time is right." "Very well." "Now drink some water." He handed her his canteen. Julia obeyed. The water was warm and tasted faintly of tin. Routier nodded. "Do as I tell you, mademoiselle, and we both might live to see Cairo again." # The hour grew so late Julia dozed in the saddle, struggling to stay awake and alert. Dawn began to lighten the eastern horizon, outlining the cliffs that lay ahead. With growing horror Julia realized she had seen these cliffs before. Somewhere within the many caves that honeycombed those cliffs was the cavern that housed both the sacrificial altar and that hideous pool of black slime. There she had come within literal inches of being possessed by a sickening horror of gelid darkness, the lost soul of Anck-su-Namun. There she'd seen Ardeth Bey fight off Bennett's mercenaries with superhuman strength and speed, his Med-Jai tattoos glowing with sapphire flames. Herself the avatar of Sekhmet, Egyptian goddess of war, Julia had turned the priests against Bennett and his mercenaries. Somehow Ardeth Bey made the priests turn their own weapons against themselves. Did the bodies still lay where they'd fallen, the silent sands soaking up the blood, filtering it down to whatever hellish spring fed that evil, churning pool of darkness? "No!" Julia screamed. "No! I cannot go back there!" Scenting her panic, her camel shied. "Calm yourself, mademoiselle!" Routier reached for the reins. "This is not the time to run away!" Julia jerked her camel's head out of his reach. The outraged animal turned in clumsy circles as it fought the reins. "Miss Lawrence." The Captain rode across her path, cutting off her escape. "Kindly settle down. We've been hired to deliver you 'alive.' That doesn't necessarily mean 'conscious,' 'ambulatory,' or even 'sane.' Do I make myself clear?" "Tell me you aren't taking me back there. To that same hellish place!" She jerked the camel's head to one side, kicking it to make it move faster. Routier made another grab at the reins and missed. Julia dodged him. The impact of her camel colliding with the Captain's nearly threw her from the saddle. The Captain caught a fistful of her blouse and hauled her upright. "Our exact destination. Now move along, or I'll put you up before Thomas and lash you to him like a martyr to the stake." As the other three mercenaries moved to surround her, Julia looked into those eyes cold and dead as hoarfrost, knowing the Captain was as good as his word. Holding back a sob of terror, she allowed Routier to tie her camel's reins to his saddle. The Captain led them to the foot of the trail that wound up the side of the cliffs and led to the caves above. They left the camels there, hobbled to keep them from straying too far. What had been a relatively easy walk the last time she was here was now a nightmare of scraped hands and broken nails. Something had torn up the trail, leaving deep ruts. Julia labored up the steep incline, propelled onward by the presence of Thomas and DiPaglia at her heels. The Captain and Routier moved on ahead. At last Julia's body declared itself spent. She stopped, resting on her hands and knees, and let her head hang down. "Hey, Miss Priss! Get a move on!" "Harry me all you like, Mr. Thomas." Julia drank in great gulps of the tepid air. "It will do no good." Julia glanced ahead. Routier paused, watching her, but the Captain moved onward, his faster pace commanding his whole attention. Julia waited until Thomas' hoarse breathing was just behind her. She kicked backward. The sole of her sturdy walking shoe caught Thomas on the shoulder and knocked him head over heels down the slope. He crashed into DiPaglia and sent him tumbling as well. Routier dropped back to help Julia struggle up the last few feet between them. He clucked his tongue. "Naughty mademoiselle. You will only provoke him." Breathing hard, perspiration running down her flushed cheeks like angry tears, Julia looked back at the tangle of arms and legs trying to sort itself out. "Mr. Thomas owes me a great deal more than I shall ever owe him. That was just the beginning." Above them, the Captain paused to rest. Routier followed his lead, taking a sip from his own canteen then passing it to Julia. "Speaking of beginnings," Routier said, "perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me how you met le Capitaine." "Haven't they told you anything about me?" "Only the details of your appearance, so I might know you if ever I saw you in Cairo." Julia sighed, feeling almost as wretched as she had on that horrible day when she woke up to find herself held captive in that padlocked wooden shed. Telling Routier the truth would cost her nothing, and it might give her some slight advantage. "The Captain's previous employer was a man named Bennett, secretary to an archaeologist of good repute. Bennett used his employer's name to open important doors while he searched for certain ancient artifacts." "What did this Bennett want with you?" Julia took another larger sip, wishing for whiskey with its bracing sting. "The Captain and his men drugged Ardeth Bey, took me away at gunpoint, and delivered us both to Bennett in one of those caves directly above us." She shivered. "Bennett had found one of the last cults of Anubis. He wanted them to raise an ancient Egyptian high priest who had ruled over the City of the Dead." "This Bennett meant to use you as a bribe?" "Yes and no." Julia smiled without humor, remembering Mr. Bennett's unkind remarks about her looks. "The priests of Anubis first tried to summon the soul of a certain woman, an Egyptian concubine who had been the high priest's lover. They intended to give her a new body. Mine." "Ah yes, the woman. I wondered where the woman came into this." Routier looked Julia over, nodding to himself. "They did not succeed." "No, thank God. They didn't. Things got a bit strange from there. When the smoke cleared, the priests of Anubis had slaughtered Bennett's mercenaries." Routier took back the canteen and screwed its lid into place. "Le Capitaine tells me we shall soon be shown to a pharaoh's hoard of treasure." He shook his head. "I do not trust any man to leave so much gold unguarded. I trust kings and priests even less." "Good for you. I think you may be the only sane man here." "Merci. Come along, mademoiselle. Le Capitaine will be getting impatient, and your admirers are gaining on us." The sight of Thomas' furious face moving up the cliffside toward her gave Julia the strength to work her way upward at a faster pace. The Captain's big, callused hands caught her by the wrists and hauled her up onto the plateau where he stood. Far too soon both Thomas and DiPaglia joined them. "Bitch!" Thomas lunged at Julia. "I'll teach you to play tricks like that on me!" Julia fell back. The Captain and Routier both stepped between her and Thomas. "Enough." The Captain's tone was flat, unemotional, but it made Thomas stop short. With extreme reluctance, Thomas let his hands drop to his sides. The Captain nodded. "Twelve hours from now Miss Lawrence will no longer be in any state to cause anyone trouble. You'll be right there to watch." "Right, Captain. Right." "Si, Capitano." DiPaglia nodded, giving Julia a sour look. "Una strega!" he muttered. "Malocchio!" "You think I'm a witch?" Julia started to laugh in DiPaglia's face, then caught herself. His superstitious nonsense gave her an idea. "Be careful, Mr. DiPaglia. For all you know I can make your--your male parts shrivel up like raisins!" The fleeting look of apprehension on DiPaglia's fat face and the slight involuntary movement of his hand toward his groin raised Julia's spirits a good ten feet. "Spare us, Miss Lawrence." The Captain pushed Julia ahead of him into the darkened cave mouth. "We know exactly what you're capable of." "Do you really?" Julia asked. "You weren't there when the priests turned against your fellow mercenaries. Did you ever wonder why that happened?" "I'm sure Ardeth Bey managed something." Julia laughed, low and wicked. "Ardeth Bey had nothing to do with it." "He was the only man to walk out of there alive." "Correct, but not entirely accurate. Really, Captain, you of all people should see the obvious flaw." "You. Of course." The Captain gripped the collar of her blouse and dragged her up against one wall. His dead eyes held a sparkle of interest that boded ill. "Tell me, Miss Lawrence, what exactly did you do?" "Will that information buy my freedom? Or Ardeth Bey's life?" "No." "Then I'm afraid I have nothing to say." "You know what really happened, don't you, Miss Lawrence?" It wasn't so much a question as a statement. Julia shook her head. "I didn't--" "Is it the cavern or the pool itself, Miss Lawrence?" The filthy black slime in that pool was somehow alive, somehow aware. . . . That it was the doorway to some hellish place where the Egyptians sent evildoers. . . . Julia hid her fright and disgust behind a careless shrug. "If your reconnaissance is faulty that's no concern of mine." The Captain stared down at Julia, the ice in his eyes spreading out until the very air between them turned chilly. Routier eased up behind him, listening closely. "Answer me, Miss Lawrence," the Captain said. "Or I will ask Thomas to conduct the interrogation." "The--the thing the priests summoned came out of the pool. The liquid in it is alive, somehow. I don't understand any of it. All I know is what I saw." "And just what did you see?" "A shape like a body, two arms, a head. . . ." Julia clapped one hand to her mouth, the very memory bringing on the taste of bile. The Captain wrenched her hand away. "Go on." "All black, smoky, opaque. It rose up out of the pool and hovered over me, trying to find a way to get inside me and take over." "Why did it fail?" "I don't know! I know nothing of the occult. Perhaps the rule is one soul to one body, and mine was already occupied." The Captain stared ahead, toward the cavern that held the black pool. He seemed to be debating tactics with himself. "Thank you, Miss Lawrence. Please proceed." Another span of minutes passed in relative silence, broken only by the occasional curses and muttering from Thomas and DiPaglia as they struggled to keep their footing on the downward incline. At last they came to the landing at the head of the stairway cut into the side of the cavern. Torches had been lit at the cardinal points, casting their smoky glare over the contents of the cavern. The black pool of slime lay smooth and silent as an evil mirror. The sandy floor was clean, showing no sign of bodies or bloodshed. As her eyes adjusted to the torchlight, Julia saw the cavern had been more than merely cleaned out. It had been redecorated. The stone altar had been covered with a golden cloth. On that sat two elaborate candlesticks, cast from bronze in the shape of oversized ushabtis. A small statue of Isis sat between them, with a statue of Anubis to the right of it. Coils of smoke, sweet and spicy and oddly cloying, perfumed the air. A crowd of perhaps a dozen people busied themselves around the altar area, men and women coming and going on various errands. All wore the native garb of Egypt. The center of their activity lay to the left of the altar. Julia couldn't make out precisely what it was through the dimness and the smoke. The Captain gave her a prod between the shoulder blades that sent her stumbling down the stone stairway. More objects emerged from the gloom. A folding camp table sat to one side, laid with a setting for one, a bowl of slightly shriveled figs, an amphora, and a goblet polished and bejeweled to such a ridiculous extent the glitter of the torchlight on it made Julia wince. At her approach the people near the altar fell back, revealing a figure lying on a low chaise longue. The figure lifted a limp hand, raising a long cigarette filter to its lips. A plume of smoke issued from the lips. Julia squinted, straining to make out details. She wondered if the scent in the air wasn't more than just incense. The drowsing figure could be smoking some type of drug. Hallucinogenic? Narcotic? Opiate? If only she could find some way of discovering the nature of the drug. Perhaps she could make its effects work in her favor. "Madam." The Captain stepped forward and bowed. "We have the woman." The figure on the longue turned its head. Gold ornaments at the ears, throat, and bosom tinkled and glittered. "Bring her closer." The voice was low, thrilling, possessed of a secret amusement. The Captain pushed Julia ahead of him. She hung back, a horrible suspicion rising in her mind. "Candles," drawled the voice. Two of the women loitering behind the figure hurried forward to light all the candles on the two candle stands which flanked the chaise longue. Both of hammered brass worked in the shape of the lotus, they cast a warm, flattering light over the figure on the longue as it took another long drag on its cigarette, then turned a placid smile on Julia. "You." Julia's eyes quickly adjusted to the light, seeing far more than she wanted to. "I should have known." "Good evening, Miss Lawrence. I hope you had a pleasant journey?" Desiree Dumont rose from the longue, her slender figure unfolding itself to reveal quite a lot of smooth white skin more revealed than hidden by the Egyptian costume she wore. Around her neck was a heavy collar, inlaid with carnelian, lapis, and other stones. No mere linen would do for her. She wore chiffon, straining over her high breasts and cut close along the curve of hip and thigh. Her black hair was styled to resemble the wigs worn by Egyptian royalty. Her eyes were painted with kohl, her lips gilded, and she all but clanked with golden jewelry. "What have you done with Ardeth Bey?" Julia demanded. "Release him this instant and you might have some prayer of getting out of Egypt before the Med-Jai cut your pretty white throat!" "Really, Miss Lawrence, that won't do." Miss Dumont dealt Julia a ringing slap across the face, knocking her back against the Captain. "If and when you are permitted to speak to me, you will do so with the utmost respect." "Not now, not ever! What kind of demented masquerade is this? Who do you think you are, Cleopatra?" Miss Dumont gave a throaty chuckle. "No one so minor, I assure you." Her eyes took on a faraway look, due in no small part to whatever she'd been smoking. "I am the reincarnation of a great lady, a power in her own right. Strong men fell to their knees before her." "Oh my God." Julia stared at her, caught between a laugh and a shudder. "Anck-su-Namun. You really do believe that!" "Very good, Miss Lawrence." Miss Dumont nodded, still lost in her dream. "Concubine to Seti I, who ruled all of Egypt. Loved by Seti I, desired by the high priest Imhotep, she was the greatest treasure of both the Upper and Lower Kingdoms." "She was the pharaoh's mistress. Just a two-faced, self-serving, backstabbing whore!" "Silence!" Miss Dumont shrieked. Her hand shot up. "I will have no more of your blasphemy!" Julia ducked the next slap and took the only path open to her, right around the rim of the black pool. Her nearness caused strange ripples to cross its glassy surface. The ripples ran toward her. "What's more," Julia shouted, pressing her advantage, "she was a regicide! She killed Seti I! The gods are known to punish people who assassinate their ordained rulers!" "You know nothing," Miss Dumont snarled. "Nothing but what you've read in those tedious books. Histories, written by men who always tell the story the way they want it to be heard. They had no sense of romance, no sense of the grandeur, the great tragedy, of that time." "They deal in facts, Miss Dumont. Not the idle fantasies of bored, opium-smoking heiresses." Sudden piercing awareness flashed behind Miss Dumont's dreamy eyes. "Look behind you, Miss Lawrence. And know that you will submit." Julia turned. There, against the back wall of the cavern, was another figure further shrouded in darkness. "Torches!" Miss Dumont cried. Again her servants rushed forward, lighting the torches on either side of the figure. Once the torches caught, flaming up into full glow, Julia screamed. There hung Ardeth Bey, shackled by the wrists to the stone wall, hanging a good three feet off the floor. Welts and bruises marred his beautiful face. That full lower lip had been split. His arms and chest bore the welts of a lash. Some faint spirit of decency had left him his black pants, although he was barefoot. Julia ran to him, reaching up to touch his knee. "Ardeth? Ardeth, can you hear me?" Those captivating dark eyes were open, staring unseeing at nothing. Tears streamed down Julia's cheeks, leaving muddy streaks. "Ardeth, please! Say something!" "He doesn't even know you're here." Miss Dumont's rich voice flowed across the space between them. "He's mine, body and soul. I took him, that night in the desert. I think you know which one. He's mine, and he'll never be yours again." Rage boiled through Julia, scalding the very depths of her soul. "You don't care, do you? You don't care if he lives or dies, as long as you win!" "That's all that really matters, my dear. You might be content with a Med-Jai, but I have my sights set on higher things." "Higher. . . .? You want to raise Imhotep! But--You couldn't possibly know how!" "I have many resources, Miss Lawrence. My grandfather's cache of artifacts, for example. We found it two weeks ago. It contained one or two items of particular value." "Let me guess. Transcripts. Copies. Parchment reproductions of certain pages in the Book of the Dead." "Very good, Miss Lawrence. If nothing else, your bookishness does permit you the occasional educated guess." "You want to bring that monster back, even if it means the destruction of the entire world?" "It won't come to that." Miss Dumont sipped from her painfully bright goblet. "We'll rule together, he and I. I'm sure I can make him see all the advantages." Julia tried to take a better look at the servants lingering in the shadows. "I take it one of these people is your translator?" "Oh no, my dear. I would never allow some lowly clerk to come between myself and my beloved Prince Imhotep." Miss Dumont laid her hand on a carved wooden chest that sat at the foot of the chaise longue. The way she caressed it told Julia that the vital scrolls must lay within. "You see," Miss Dumont continued, "I am an ordained priestess of Isis. I can read Ancient Egyptian. What's more, my studies have taught me to watch for the alignment of certain constellations, the time of year and the proper year at that. All the crucial little details for preparing the return of Prince Imhotep." A sudden icy calm gripped Julia, a total clarity of thought born of the desperate need to wake up from this nightmare. "You really do mean to destroy the Med-Jai." "Oh yes. That will be my first gift to my lord Prince Imhotep." Something evil flashed in the drugged depths of her black eyes. "The mighty Ardeth Bey has already whetted the hunger for vengeance that gnaws at the heart of my beloved Imhotep." She held up the gleaming goblet. "It will take more than the blood of this Med-Jai to slake his thirst." "Oh my God! You can't be serious!" Julia held on to the frozen clarity numbing her mind. She had no time for panic. "Are you actually--you can't really be drinking--" Miss Dumont laughed and drank a long swallow of whatever the goblet held. "I've tasted more than this, my dear Miss Lawrence. I've drunk the very essence of Ardeth Bey's power, of his strength." Julia shoved that thought away, unwilling to comprehend the note of sly triumph in Miss Dumont's voice. It was plain to her that Miss Dumont was far beyond any possible hope of reclamation. The time had come for last resorts. Julia turned to the Captain. "Please, Captain. Listen to me. This woman is completely insane. Whatever she promised you, she can't possibly deliver it." The Captain smiled. "I'm happy to know there's something that can frighten the amazing Miss Lawrence. Maybe you'll keep that in mind and do as you're told." Julia stared at him. "You don't care either, do you? What is it you want, Captain? Tell me that much." "Gold, Miss Lawrence. All the gold I can lay my hands on. Seti I had quite a pile, and I mean to find it." "Do you know how many men have died trying to find Seti I's treasure? Do you know how many lives have been thrown away on that legend?" "The Med-Jai exist for a reason." The Captain shot a dark look at Ardeth Bey. "I've never heard of any unit that lasted for three thousand years. There's something they're guarding, and I mean to have it." "Has it ever occurred to you they're busy keeping something caged? Preventing greedy fools like you from digging it up is only half of the job!" "Well!" Miss Dumont said brightly. "Now that we have the Med-Jai and his little tart, we can get on with the business at hand." She opened the lid of the carved wooden box and took out a parchment scroll. "Tomorrow night, at moonrise. Everything must be in place. See to it, Captain." "Yes, Madam." Julia watched as Miss Dumont retired to her chaise longue and took up her long cigarette filter, holding it up while her servants fitted another tainted cigarette into it. Julia was willing to bet all the gold the Captain coveted that he himself was supplying Miss Dumont with drugs in exchange for this mad scheme to plunder Seti I's hoard. A hand gripped her shoulder. Julia jumped back, flattening herself against the wall. Routier stood before her. "Easy, mademoiselle. Le Capitaine says I am to take you to the place where you will rest until you are needed." "Needed?" Julia shied back even farther. "For what?" Routier shrugged. "They tell me nothing, mademoiselle. Only what they want me to do. Come along." He lowered his voice. "You and I have something to discuss." Julia clung to Ardeth Bey's calf, unwilling to leave him to whatever Miss Dumont had done to him. Routier gently pried her hands away and held them between his. "He is safe enough for the moment, mademoiselle. Now come with me before you attract dangerous attention." Every step an agony of reluctance, Julia followed Routier through a small archway cut into the wall to Ardeth Bey's left. Julia looked back at Ardeth, hanging there like a limp mannequin. Her heart ached and seethed within her. Bad enough he was chained up like an animal. How would she possibly combat the sorcery that had left him as empty-eyed as a corpse? # Routier led Julia into a small chamber just off the corridor that reached back into greater darkness. He struck a match and lit the lantern that stood just inside the doorway. "Now, mademoiselle. Listen to me. I will step away for but a few moments to gather rations, water, and blankets. You will stay exactly where you are. Do you understand?" Julia nodded. Routier took her by the shoulders and stared directly into her eyes. "Break faith with me now, mademoiselle, and I will leave you to them. Know that I mean those words more than any others I have ever spoken." Julia swallowed, her mouth dry. "I understand. And I believe you." Routier nodded. "Trés bien. I will return." Julia picked up the lantern and paced out the far corners of the room, which were only six good strides away. She sat down with her back to the wall then drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her forehead on her knees. Both Miss Dumont and the Captain were mad, one for power and one for wealth. Thomas and DiPaglia were too stupid to understand the danger they were in. Only Routier saw things as Julia did. Even when she'd been hiding beneath that table, waiting for a chance to surprise Jameson, she'd had some hope and comfort in the shape of her pistol. Now she had no such relief. And Ardeth Bey! Her beloved Med-Jai, the fearsome desert warrior who saw to it Imhotep remained in his endless, deathless banishment. The one thing Julia always feared had finally come to pass. Ardeth Bey's love for her had been used to blind him, to weaken him, to lure him into his enemies' hands. Fresh tears ran down Julia's cheeks. What he suffered now, he suffered in part because of her. Both the Med-Jai and the entire world faced total annihilation unless she broke his chains, broke the spell that bound him, and saw to it he defeated both the Captain and Miss Dumont. Julia raised her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks. There was no knowing how many times innocent blood had been shed on that altar to feed the foul powers that dwelled in that loathsome black pool. One thing was certain. Not another drop of Ardeth Bey's blood would fall. Julia would see her own heart torn from her chest first. She stared at the ring on her left hand. "I won't let you down, Ardeth," she whispered. "I'm not dead yet. This is a long way from over." END PART I **ETERNAL ENCHANTRESS** **PART TWO** **by** **TaleBearer** Routier appeared in the doorway and tossed a blanket down beside Julia. From the canvas bag he carried he withdrew a loaf of bread, some grubby cheese, a bowl of figs, and two bottles of water. He dropped the other blanket tucked beneath his arm and sat cross-legged on it, facing her. "Eat," he said, "then sleep." "And what will you do?" "Make certain that you do nothing more than that. Le Capitaine, he is very serious about what a danger you are." "I hardly think I'm any danger in the face of genuine black magic." "One hears rumors, mademoiselle." Routier tore the loaf in half and bit into his part, handing her the other. "About the Med-Jai, about you yourself." "Me?" Julia managed a laugh. "What on earth could the local gossips be saying about me?" "There were native boys acting as bearers for the mercenaries and priests that night. I have heard the stories they tell. They say Ardeth Bey was like a god, taller and stronger and more than a man. And his woman fought beside him, just as strong, just as great." "Nonsense." Julia split the bread down the middle and laid a slice of the dubious-looking cheese inside. "You've been listening to the lurid imaginings of peasants trying to wheedle coins out of gullible tourists." "Perhaps." Routier finished his meal in silence, then settled back. His eyes were half-closed, but Julia was acutely aware of the way they followed her every movement. When she had eaten her bread and cheese and drunk the water, Julia spread out her blanket and lay down with her back to Routier. "Goodnight, mademoiselle. I wish you peaceful dreams." "That's very kind of you, Monsieur Routier. Somehow I think they're unlikely." Routier chuckled. "Can it be la femme formidable is indeed frightened?" His blasé attitude was too much to bear. Julia turned over and looked Routier in the eye. "Miss Dumont believes she's the reincarnation of some murderous concubine from Ancient Egypt. The Captain supplies her with drugs and encourages this fantasy because he thinks she can lead him to the treasure of Seti I. Is either of them anywhere close to the normal bounds of sanity? I don't think so." Routier considered that for a long moment, looking troubled. "You seem to know a great deal about this Prince Imhotep. Madame talks of him constantly. Who was he?" Julia shivered. "He's a monster, cursed to an eternity of undeath for the crime of resurrecting the whore who murdered Seti I. If he's brought back to life, he brings with him all the plagues of Egypt. And that's only the start." Routier studied her for a long moment, then let out a snort of laughter. "Please, mademoiselle, spare me such fairy tales. Next you will tell me this place is cursed!" "Laugh all you like, Monsieur Routier. You know there's something very, very wrong here." Julia sat up, tucking her knees under her. "If Miss Dumont really does have some way to bring Imhotep back from the dead, we are all in for a very short and extremely painful time of it!" "So. You said this Imhotep is Ardeth Bey's worst enemy?" "That's right." "If Madame does succeed, would we need Ardeth Bey to defeat this Imhotep?" "Assuming he's in any condition to help us." Routier nodded. "I see." "Do you? Really?" Routier pursed his full lips, his brows drawing together as those hazel eyes narrowed. "I think, mademoiselle, it is time you and I had that little chat I mentioned earlier." He moved across what little space separated them and sat close beside her. When he spoke, his usual jovial tone was gone, replaced by something far more serious. "I believe you are correct in thinking Madame is more than a little mad. Le Capitaine has tried to discuss what is to be done should difficulties arise, but Madame refuses to consider any outcome other than complete success." He shook his head. "That alone is madness." Julia nodded her encouragement. Routier turned his head, listening to the voices in the cavern. A burst of Thomas' coarse laughter echoed briefly, then the lull returned. Routier turned back to her and spoke in a tense whisper. "I will do what I can to learn Madame's secret for keeping the Med-Jai helpless. If I can discover it, perhaps I can also learn the cure. What do you offer in return?" Julia looked into Routier's eyes. What kind of man was he? A mercenary, a soldier of fortune, perhaps even a hired killer. How far was she willing to go to see to it Ardeth Bey survived this ordeal? Could she go as far as circumstance demanded, even though Ardeth Bey himself might disown her once the details were revealed? Julia put all such fretful speculation out of her mind. It was time to do what had to be done. At least Routier wasn't an animal like Thomas. "Mademoiselle?" Routier prompted her gently. "Just tell me your price, Monsieur Routier. I think you have something very specific in mind." Routier nodded. "If we succeed and the Med-Jai defeats this Imhotep, you must speak for me." He reached out to curl his fingers around Julia's wrist in a delicate gesture that combined emphasis with dignified pleading. "Ardeth Bey will kill everyone involved here, this I know. You must tell him how I protected you, how I did what I could to free him and to stop Madame." For a man like Routier to use his own vulnerability as a bargaining point made a considerable impression on Julia. He was trusting her, putting his very life in her hands. This might well be the greatest gamble of all, but Julia had little choice. "Very well, Monsieur Routier. I accept your terms." She covered his hand with her own. "Do your part and I'll do mine." Routier looked down at her hand where it covered his. He turned his palm up and laced their fingers together. "I see the other stories I have heard of you are also true." "I can't imagine what those might be." "Can't you, Julia?" He whispered her name, the movement of his full lips making her name into a caress. Julia was abruptly aware of how close he was, the hard muscles of his shoulder and arm pressing against her side. The only man she'd ever been close to in such an intimate manner was Ardeth Bey. Given the dire nature of her circumstances, the presence of a strong, courteous, gentle man was more than a little appealing. "You are feared and admired throughout Cairo," Routier murmured. "A natural beauty, graceful and clever, with great respect for the peoples of the African continent." For a moment Julia thought of the knife seller who had insisted she take the two knives she'd admired. Could it be true? "Oh please. I'm just another Englishwoman." Routier smiled, a wicked gleam dancing in his eyes. "You know that is not true. You ride a horse like a man. You carry a pistol as easily as most women carry their handbags." His smile faded into an expression far more intense. "Mon Dieu! You must have the courage of ten men, to survive so long in the company of the Med-jai and those they hunt down." Julia tried to back away, but the curve of the granite wall gave her no room for escape. "Monsieur Routier, please. The chatter of Cairo's gossips is really of no interest to me." Routier gently withdrew his hand from beneath hers. He touched her cheek with the very tips of his fingers, tracing the line of her cheekbone. "Then perhaps I shall tell you something that will interest you." He bent his head to murmur in her ear. "Never have I met a woman as captivating as you, ma belle Anglaise. You are everything a man like me could possibly desire." "Now really!" Julia tried to push away from the wall and stand up. Routier's arm slid around her waist. He pulled her down across his lap, against his chest. The guns and knives at his belt made for uncomfortable sitting, but even more disturbing was the sense of being surrounded by him, enveloped in his arms, in the hot male scent of his body. Julia froze, wondering if she'd been wrong about Routier after all. "Listen to me!" He spoke in an urgent whisper. "The odds, they are against your Med-Jai. If Madame doesn't kill him, le Capitaine will. Where will that leave you, ma belle? Alone and unprotected. You know as well as I do Madame will see you dead." Julia shut her eyes against that terrible truth. "The children of the world are our children," Ardeth Bey had told her on that magical night when he'd stayed with her in her flat and she'd slept safe in his arms. Now Julia was his wife, the wife of the leader of the Med-Jai. Now she had a duty to those children as well. She would do what had to be done. "While your sense of chivalry is touching, Monsieur Routier," Julia said, "if you want to live to see whatever country you call home, you will keep Ardeth Bey alive. Saving his life is the one thing that will buy you the mercy you seek." Routier drew her back against his shoulder, trailing his fingertips down the length of her braid. "There is much in what you say, ma belle. Still. . . ." He turned her face to his. "I think you and I might suit each other very well." He bent his head, touching those full lips to hers. A gentle kiss, soft and sweet, no doubt meant to reassure her. Julia held perfectly still, neither resisting nor yielding. Routier's hand slid up her neck into her hair, holding her closer so he could deepen the kiss. Julia turned her face aside. "Julia--" "No." She held up her left hand so the lantern light flashed on her ring. "I belong to Ardeth Bey." "Body and soul?" "Body and soul." Routier stared into her eyes for a long moment, then smiled. "I admire your loyalty, mademoiselle." His arm around her waist still held her close. His other hand stroked her braid. "Pardonnez-moi. . . . I cannot help wishing a lady of your remarkable qualities could find a place in her heart for me." With a sigh of reluctance, he released her. Julia stretched out on her blanket with her face to the wall. Routier spread the second blanket over her. "Go to sleep, mademoiselle. I do not know when they may come for you." Julia lay staring at the wall, disturbed and oddly touched by Routier's wistful sentiment. He was handsome enough, with that devilish charm, and he seemed unwilling to force himself upon her. While it was not the worst alternative, Julia still trembled at the very thought of being unfaithful to Ardeth Bey. # Sleep finally conquered Julia's anxieties. What rest she got was troubled with nightmares. Hundreds of mummies rose from their tombs to bind her up in their rotting bandages and drag her one slow, shuffling step at a time toward the pool of black slime. It would swallow her up, fill her lungs, blind her eyes, eat her brain, and make her into something that would terrorize the Sahara for all of eternity. . . . "NO!" Julia fought free of the blanket tucked in too snugly around her arms and legs. She sat up and stared around her, too frightened to know if she was awake or still trapped within the nightmare. Hasty footsteps thudded on the stone floor. Routier came dashing through the doorway. "Mademoiselle?" He panted. "You cried out. Why?" Julia settled back and laid her forearm across her eyes. She'd escaped the one nightmare only to wake up in the other. "Bad dreams, Monsieur Routier. I told you I wouldn't sleep well." "I am sorry for your distress, mademoiselle. I have three items that might raise your spirits." "What an unfortunate turn of phrase." Julia sat up in time to catch the two small round objects Routier dropped into her lap. "Tangerines? Where did these come from?" Routier shrugged. "Ne c'est pas, mademoiselle. Madame insists upon fresh fruit every day, and so voila!" "I doubt she sent these up here with her compliments." Routier flashed that charming smile. He crouched down before her and spoke in a softer, more intimate tone. "I thought perhaps you would accept them as a token of my sincere regard." Julia looked away, embarrassed and annoyed by the heat coloring her cheeks. Courtesy demanded she answer him. "Merci." She allowed him a smile of her own. Routier beamed. "There, you see? It is not so difficult!" He reached out to stroke his thumb along the curve of her lower lip. "You could like me, mademoiselle, if only you would permit yourself to do so." All too aware of the truth in his words, Julia tried to change the subject. "What is the third item?" Routier sat down beside her and took the tangerine from her hand. He drew the knife from his belt, quartering the tangerine in two neat slices. He handed the quarters back to her, looking into her eyes while he licked away the juice running down his wrist. More heat stung Julia's cheeks. She'd never had a man make eyes at her like this, not even Ardeth Bey. She bit into one quarter of the tangerine, enjoying the citrus tang of the rare treat, sucking at it to keep the juice from spilling down over her clothes. A slight sound from Routier made her glance at him. He stared at her mouth, watching the way her lips fit against the sweet, juicy tangerine. For a moment he wore a look of naked longing, a hunger that demanded satisfaction. "Julia," he whispered. "Tell me. Have you given yourself to him? Has the Med-Jai shared your bed?" Fascinated by Routier's sudden intensity, Julia nodded without thinking. Routier smiled, his courtly charm roughened by that wolfish hunger. "So. You know what it is to surrender to desire." He took the piece of tangerine from her hand and raised it to his lips, sinking his teeth into it and devouring the fruit. Julia stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head and sprang to her feet, stumbling away. She heard him chuckle softly to himself, but he kept his distance, allowing her time to regain her composure. When she turned back to face him, he was busy gathering together the various items of their little camp. "I think I know Madame's secret," he said. "Some kind of talisman. Madame carries it with her constantly, always fussing with it." "So there's no way to get it away from her?" Routier shook his head. "When she sleeps, she sleeps with it clutched in her hand, under her pillow or her cheek. C'est impossible." "What is it exactly? What does it look like?" Routier shrugged. "Dark, thin, twice as long as a finger, perhaps. To me it looked like the braid from a child's doll." "Do you have any idea how it works?" Routier shook his head. "I've never seen her use it in any way, so it must simply do whatever it does." Julia frowned. "What time is it?" "Sunset." "That late? When is moonrise?" "Two hours. Perhaps less." The blood drained from Julia's face, leaving her pale and dizzy. "We're running out of time!" Her thoughts flew to the parchment contained in the carved wooden chest. "The scrolls. We have to destroy the scrolls!" "A single match dropped in among them and whoosh! They will be ashes." Too easy. Miss Dumont would have taken precautions. Julia kept thinking, scarcely tasting the rest of her tangerine. "Miss Dumont would see to it she had some hold over Imhotep, something that would force him to do as she wished. And that would require spells from the Book of Life. Does she have that?" Routier frowned, thinking. "What does that Book look like?" "Oh, you'd know it if you saw it. Every single page is made of solid gold." Routier laughed. "Did these Ancient Egyptians have so much gold they could afford to waste it on a book?" Julia nodded. "Oh yes. Even the Captain's greediest dreams probably fall far short of the reality." As if in reply, the Captain's voice rang out from below. Thomas answered, the sound of his voice getting closer. Routier got to his knees, then stood up and pulled Julia into his arms. He cupped her face in his hands. "They are coming, ma belle. Do not be afraid. I will not let them hurt you." Julia's heart began to pound. "You can't stop them. Not now. That will give us away." Routier nodded. "Vraiment. You must endure a little while yet, until I can determine how to free the Med-Jai." This was another dangerous gamble, allowing herself to be led away like a lamb to the slaughter. Julia reached up to stroke Routier's cheek. The sudden tenderness in his gaze tugged at her heart. That prompted her to speak harshly. "Betray me, betray Ardeth Bey, and the Med-Jai will feed you to the jackals." "Ah, c'est magnifique!" Routier turned his head to kiss her palm. "No silly little endearments from you, mademoiselle. Mais non. Such panache!" He let go of her and stepped back just as Thomas strode through the doorway. Thomas looked them over with a sour expression. "Well well well. If this isn't just precious." He studied Julia. "Looks like Miss Priss held out against your charms, Jack." "Really, Mr. Thomas." Julia faced him with a defiant glare. "Don't be tiresome." Thomas seized Julia by wrist and yanked her toward him. "Don't be so cheeky, Miss Priss. I can make this a lot worse than it's already going to be." Knowing just how wrong he really was gave Julia the strength to jerk her wrist out of Thomas' grip. "You make a pathetic terrorist, Mr. Thomas. You couldn't scare the piss out of an incontinent beagle." "Is that right?" Thomas lunged at her. Grinning broadly, Routier planted one large hand on Thomas' shoulder and shoved him away. "Come along, mademoiselle. You have made your point." Miss Dumont's minions were preparing for the ceremony, bustling around the altar arranging this and positioning that. Julia watched them scurry about, oppressed by a horrible sense of déjà vu. The Captain stood near the altar, shouting orders. Miss Dumont herself was nowhere to be seen. Ardeth Bey remained chained to the wall, but the chains had been lengthened. Now his bare feet touched the floor. Julia gave silent thanks. That was one obstacle overcome. He still hung there like an empty overcoat, his body present but his mind held captive somewhere else. His color was not good, too pale, his breathing shallow. She had to discover the nature of Miss Dumont's talisman, and quickly. That meant getting close to Miss Dumont, or bringing Miss Dumont close to her. "Hey, Captain!" Thomas called out. "Where do you want her?" "Bring her here. We'll keep her off to the side for now." "No fancy dress this time, Captain?" Julia asked. The Captain stared at her for a moment, then two faint lines appeared between his eyebrows. That was as much of a reaction as Julia could hope for. The Captain did indeed remember the way she'd outsmarted him over the indecent Egyptian costume Bennett had insisted she wear. "If your body is needed at all, Miss Lawrence," the Captain said, "I'm told it will be a matter of blood or a few specific organs." The Captain pointed to what appeared to be a piece of furniture carved in the lotus pattern and heavily gilded. "Thomas. Sit her down over there and tie her hands behind her. Use those knots you learned in Greece." Thomas took Julia by the arm and hustled her over to the gilded lotus, which appeared to be some kind of chair. Thomas pushed her down onto the seat then jerked her arms behind her back, one on either side of the lotus' gilded stem. He lashed her forearms together so tightly no circulation could possibly continue. Her hands would be numb in minutes. Julia risked a casual glance at Routier. He glared at Thomas, a muscle flexing in his cheek. The Captain stepped behind Julia to check her bonds. "Excellent. You have the best seat in the house, Miss Lawrence." "It's not too late," Julia said quietly. "You can still get out of this alive." "Goodbye, Miss Lawrence. You've kept things interesting, I'll say that for you." He and the three other mercenaries took up a position just a few feet behind Julia, out of the way of the ceremony but within easy reach. A drumbeat sounded overhead like the throbbing of a giant heart. Wooden flutes and tiny bells made eerie music somewhere above. A procession entered from the eastern archway. Four of Miss Dumont's handmaidens preceded the high priestess herself, all of them dressed up in fairly respectable reproductions of Egyptian court attire. Miss Dumont stepped up before the great stone altar. She spoke briefly in a language unknown to Julia, full of sharp plosives and a few glottals. The pool of black slime began to churn and roil. This could not be happening. It simply was not possible that Desiree Dumont, a creature of Sloane Square tea parties with her milliner and dressmaker and private social secretary, could possibly be all that she claimed. Miss Dumont clapped her hands twice. Through the western archway came six men bearing a litter that supported a large, twisted mass of what looked like muddy amber. "That's him!" DiPaglia whispered behind her. "Inna rock! I no believe it, but the foreman, he swore--" "Sh!" The litter bearers set their burden down between Miss Dumont and the pool of black slime. The churning surface of the pool grew even more agitated. Miss Dumont watched that with a smug smile. She held out her hand. One of her handmaidens laid a parchment scroll across her palm. Miss Dumont unrolled the scroll and began to read aloud, chanting the words in that same peculiar language. A sudden wind blasted through the cavern, bringing with it a sound like the moaning of the damned. Miss Dumont's eyes showed white all around the pupil. She bared her teeth in a grimace of triumph. She went on reading, her voice rising above the moaning of the phantom wind. Something, some movement, some alteration more sensed than observed, drew Julia's attention back to the amber mass. It seemed to suck all the light from the candles and torches, leaving the cavern darker and colder. The light flickered and pulsed inside the amber like some horrible alien heart. Julia wanted to cry out, to scream, to beg and plead for some sane person to stop this before it went any further. Her distress must have been apparent to her guards. Two strong hands pressed down on her shoulders. "Not a sound, ma fille," Routier murmured in her ear. "Distract Madame now and she'll gladly slit your throat herself." Julia bit her lips by way of showing her compliance. Routier nodded. "Good girl. Be patient. Above all, keep still." Routier stepped back. Miss Dumont's chanting rapidly escalated in both pitch and volume. The stolen light pulsed inside the amber mass, waxing stronger with each pulse until it suddenly erupted in an explosion of brilliance. Miss Dumont's servants cried out as one and fell on their faces. "Imhotep!" Miss Dumont screamed. "Imhotep!" A shape emerged from the blinding glare, awkward and jerky and growling like a wounded mongrel. Even the scholar in her couldn't force Julia to keep her eyes open and look directly at the horror that approached the altar. She cringed back against the lotus chair, her senses now assaulted by the stink of flesh still decaying, corrupt and putrid and vile. A voice like boulders thundering down a mountainside bellowed out a question. Miss Dumont replied, going on at some length. The thundering voice made what sounded like a noise of assent. Miss Dumont clapped her hands again. Julia opened one eye to see two of the litter bearers reappear carrying a square chest marked all over with hieroglyphs. They carried the chest around behind Miss Dumont and placed it on the far side of the altar, putting it directly between the thing that was Imhotep and the four mercenaries. "Gentlemen," Miss Dumont said. "My lord Prince Imhotep offers you a gift in token of his gratitude for your assistance." "The chest?" asked the Captain. "Inside it you will find priceless treasures, a taste of the riches that await you!" "Captain!" Julia cried. "You're being set up! You've served your purpose so now you're expendable!" There was a moment of strained silence. Then Imhotep rumbled another question. Miss Dumont replied in a dismissive tone. "Kindly ignore Miss Lawrence," Miss Dumont said, giving the Captain a bright smile. "As she's so fond of reminding us, she's not an Egyptologist. All of this is quite outside her field of study." The condescension in Miss Dumont's tone roused Julia's anger. "Don't you Americans say you should never buy a pig in a poke? Don't touch that chest!" Imhotep growled something else. Miss Dumont made soothing noises. "Please, Captain," Miss Dumont said. "You cannot refuse the Prince's generosity. To offend him would be unthinkable." The more Miss Dumont coaxed the Captain into opening the chest, the more Julia knew she did not want to be anywhere near the chest when it was opened. Routier was in even greater danger, since he stood closer to the chest. Only one idea came to mind. Julia had to hope Miss Dumont planned to see her die a long, slow death. Otherwise she was about to get herself killed. "Let me go!" Julia wailed. "Please, please, please let me go! Don't feed me to the monster!" Tears rained down her cheeks, tears that were all too real. She went on babbling and blubbering and crying out for mercy. Imhotep snarled something at Miss Dumont. She answered him in a deferential tone. The tone she turned on the Captain was quite something else. "Get her out of here! Keep her quiet!" "Happy to oblige, ma'am," Thomas said. "I'll shut her up!" "Be still, you fool!" Routier snapped. "She hates you. For me she will be quiet." "Take her into one of the side tunnels, Jack," the Captain said in a low voice. "Knock her out if you have to, but keep her alive." "Oui, mon Capitaine." Much to her amazement, Routier stepped up behind the lotus chair and grasped the seat, lifting her up chair and all. Her wailing took on a new note of terror as she suffered the agony on knowing she was leaving Ardeth Bey at the mercy of Imhotep, if only for the moment. Routier carried out through the far archway. She kept up her panicky babbling and pleading until they were out of the cavern. Routier set the chair down, then grabbed her chin and glared into her eyes. "Are you mad? I told you to keep still!" "I had to get us out of there! Once the Captain opens that chest, something horrible will happen!" Routier pulled a knife from his belt and cut the ropes binding her wrists. "How can you be so sure?" "Would you do anything that woman urged you to do? And would you do it without at least checking your pistols to make sure they were loaded?" Routier frowned, then shook his head. "Non, I would not. She is a man-eater, that one." "Exactly." From the far side of the cavern came the sounds of Thomas and DiPaglia grunting and swearing as they strained to open the chest. "Oh my God." Julia hunched forward, huddling against Routier, who wrapped his arms around her. "Here it comes." The phantom wind blasted through the cavern again. That horrible voice began to laugh, booming through the cavern, echoing off the walls. Julia shivered and wept like a child, longing for the comfort of her father's arms. "Here," said Thomas. "What's this? Alabaster! With gold!" "Canopic jars," the Captain said. "Very nice. I'm sure they'll bring a good price on the antiquities black market." Now Miss Dumont laughed. "Indeed they would, Captain, but I'm afraid we have other uses for them. And for you!" That evil laugh boomed out again. Thomas' voice rose into a falsetto shriek of agony. Gunshots ricocheted around the cavern. DiPaglia let out a howl, then the Captain himself cried out, cursing Miss Dumont in a voice that abruptly shriveled up and vanished. "Mon Dieu. . . ." Routier whispered. "Come, mademoiselle. I think it's time we left this place." "No. Not without Ardeth Bey." Julia shook out her arms, trying to hurry the circulation back into her hands. "Don't be a fool! We cannot save him now!" "Saving just him is no longer the point." In defiance of all sense, all reason, Julia made herself turn and face the cavern archway. "I must stop Imhotep. That's all that matters now." "This is a creature of sorcery! Of the Devil himself! What can you hope to do against him?" "Anything and everything I can." A strange calm settled over Julia. "You and I made a deal, Monsieur Routier. Keep your side of it. Only I can tell you how to get out of this alive." Julia brought Ardeth Bey's ring to her lips, calling to mind both the first and last times they had made love. If she died tonight, she died the wife of Ardeth Bey, Chieftain of the Brotherhood of the Med-Jai. Squaring her shoulders, she walked out into the cavern. "Prince Imhotep! Hear me! I bring you warning of a plot, an evil deception!" Julia braced herself against the sight of the rotting monster that had emerged from the amber mass. Instead, a tall, muscular, aristocratic man stood there wearing nothing but the brief Egyptian kilt. He was bald, his entire body smooth-shaven. To Julia's modern eyes he looked almost naked, highly vulnerable. The ancient darkness burning in his eyes warned her to remember who this man had been. Julia fell to her knees, head bowed. "Please, my Prince. Grant this unworthy one your leave to speak." The fully fleshed man that Imhotep now was summoned her with a brief lifting of one hand. Julia hurried toward him, then stopped a good ten feet away and dropped to her knees again. She had no idea what Egyptian court protocol called for, but this seemed like a respectful distance. Imhotep spoke, his voice now a smooth baritone, rich and silky and hypnotic. Unfortunately, Julia didn't understand a single word. "Forgive me, my Prince. I am ignorant of the language of the great and educated." Imhotep turned a question on Miss Dumont. She answered him in tones of deepest respect, yet Julia heard the note of barely repressed anger. Miss Dumont was furious at being upstaged. Knowing that brought Julia some slight comfort. Imhotep moved to stand directly in front of Julia. He reached down and lifted her chin, making her face him. She kept her eyes down. He barked a command. Julia bowed lower. He jerked her head up and repeated the command. Hoping she guessed right, Julia tilted her face up and looked him in the eye. Imhotep nodded, staring down into her eyes with an intensity that made her feel faint. It was as if he searched the very depths of her soul. At last he let go of her chin and planted his hand on top of her head. He spoke a string of words. Sudden dizziness gripped her. Inside Julia's mind things shifted, shoved aside to make room for something alien that sat within her awareness like a pebble in her shoe. "Now, little slave? Do you hear me?" Julia gasped. She looked up at Imhotep, then ducked again, blushing. Imhotep chuckled. "Who is she?" "The Med-Jai's beloved, my Prince," Miss Dumont said. "She thinks she can fight me for him and win." Imhotep frowned. "Why should she fight you for him? What is he to you that you will fight her?" For the first time, Miss Dumont looked uncertain. "He is nothing, my Prince! I merely brought him here to amuse you!" "She's lying, great Prince!" Julia put all her anger, all her fear into her voice. This time she had no magic other than words. "She's lying, just like she lied to Seti I about you! She struck a bargain with the Med-Jai! They raised you just to put you down for good this time!" Imhotep gave Miss Dumont a long, measuring look. Miss Dumont rushed down the steps to deal Julia a ringing slap across the face. "Shut your mouth, you worthless wretch! You are not fit to speak in the presence of Prince Imhotep!" "And you are, you conniving slut?" Julia looked past her at Imhotep. "Ask her how she got the Med-Jai to come here! Where are his men? Where are the ones who always ride with him? This harlot sweet-talked him into betraying his sacred oath and his entire Brotherhood!" Miss Dumont grabbed Julia by the braid, jerking her head back and raising her own hand to strike. Imhotep snapped at her. Miss Dumont instantly released Julia, but there was pure molten death glowing in her black eyes. Imhotep took hold of Julia's chin once again, forcing her head up so he could stare down into her eyes. "Who were you, slave? You know too much for this single lifetime." Julia swallowed, thinking fast. "I was Anck-su-Namun's maid, my Prince. I heard her plotting then, planning to seduce the leader of the Med-Jai. She feared you might be taken. Then she would need the Med-Jai to protect her. He was a great man, too strong for her wiles. She loves no one but herself!" Miss Dumont screamed, a noise of pure fury. "She lies! She is nothing, no man, no children, nothing but her books. Listen to me, my Prince! I love only you!" Imhotep silenced Miss Dumont with a look, then turned back to Julia. "What else do you know?" "My Prince, I am nothing. I am not fit to sweep the dust after your feet have touched the earth." "Such humility is fitting. Speak." "The gods punish the arrogant and the blasphemer. Had Anck-su-Namun truly loved you with a pure love, and not this selfish, arrogant lust, the gods might have pitied both of you and found a way to keep you together." Julia stopped, breathing hard, praying she was making some kind of sense. Several tense moments passed. At last Imhotep spoke. "And you? Do you love the Med-Jai?" That question sent cold fright spearing through Julia. She floundered, trying to fathom what lay behind the question. "I am English, my Prince. In this life his people and my people are enemies, if we have anything to do with each other at all." Imhotep's eyes narrowed. "Then why are you here?" "She planned to make the Med-Jai watch me die, then she'd see which of you survived your battle." Julia risked a glance at Miss Dumont, whose lips were a thin white line. Miss Dumont nearly shook with the force of her contained rage. "She wins no matter who else loses." Imhotep nodded. "That is her way." Miss Dumont gasped. "My Prince! You cannot believe what this stupid less-than-a-slave tells you! She will say anything if it will persuade you to spare the Med-Jai's life!" "Ask her, my Prince." Julia smiled, recalling the way Miss Dumont had bragged about capturing Ardeth Bey. "Ask her if she shared the Med-Jai's bed. You will see who tells the greatest lies." The bright flush of anger drained from Miss Dumont's cheeks, leaving her as pale as parchment. Imhotep let go of Julia's chin and turned to loom over Miss Dumont. "Anck-su-Namun," Imhotep crooned. "What would you not do to see me raised from the dead? Has your devotion driven you to barter your own sweet flesh to buy the Med-Jai's favor?" Miss Dumont backed up a step, her mouth working. "All I have done I have done for you, my Prince!" "Did you lure the Med-Jai into your bed?" Imhotep pursued Miss Dumont. "Did you think to prove your undying love for me by giving yourself to my mortal enemy?" Beneath the quiet tone of Imhotep's voice, Julia heard the seething undercurrent of anger. Out of the corner of her eye she spied Routier. He lay on his belly, peering over the edge of the landing at the top of the stone stairway. He was in an excellent position to shoot the manacles off Ardeth Bey's wrists. She could only hope that was his intention. "She used the dark arts you taught her!" Julia cried. "She profaned your love and your teachings! All so she could slake her lust beneath this Med-Jai, this warrior who lives for nothing but your ruin!" Imhotep stopped. Without turning his head, he asked, "How do you know this, little maid?" "The one who calls herself Anck-su-Namun carries a love charm she made to bind him to her will." Routier said it looked like a doll's braid. Hair. . . . There had been that lock of Ardeth's hair sent along with Miss Dumont's challenge. Suddenly Julia understood. "It's made of the Med-Jai's hair! She cut it herself while he was under her spell." Imhotep studied Miss Dumont over with narrowed eyes, then nodded to himself. "Give it to me." Under that hard obsidian stare, Miss Dumont could only obey. She reached into the chiffon folds barely concealing her bosom and withdrew a small object wrapped in black silk. Imhotep took it from her hand. The silk fell away to reveal a braid of dark human hair as long as Julia's middle finger. The uncertain light of the torches made it difficult to see the exact color of the hair, but she was willing to bet the mingled strands held both Ardeth's reddish highlights and the blue-black darkness of Miss Dumont's hair. Imhotep stared at the braid for several seconds, then hissed a word. The braid ignited, burning away into nothing, leaving behind a horrible stench. Ardeth Bey jerked upright in his chains, stiffening as if stabbed. After a moment he sagged, his knees giving way and his head hanging down upon his chest. Julia bit back a cry of anguish. While Imhotep contemplated Miss Dumont, Julia watched Ardeth Bey. Imhotep had broken Miss Dumont's spell. Had he broken Ardeth Bey along with it? "Anck-su-Namun." Imhotep shook his head. "I endured the hom-dai for you. Buried alive, devoured by scarabs, doomed to undeath, never knowing the hope of a new incarnation or the peace of final rest. . . ." Tears welled up in Miss Dumont's eyes and spilled over. The heavy kohl smeared, turning her tears black and staining her pale cheeks. "I have endured the underworld for you, my Prince. Waiting and waiting for the day I might return and bring you back again." She slid her hands up over his bare chest. "My Prince, it is you I love! It is you I want. Let us be done with these fools and embrace our destiny." Ardeth Bey raised his head. In those dark eyes churned a hatred bone deep and centuries old. Never had she seen that beautiful face drawn into such harsh lines. The rage there promised blood and death. He was alive! Alive, whole, and sane enough to realize exactly where he was. Relief flooded Julia, so intense she nearly fainted. "Answer me," Imhotep said. "Did you take the Med-Jai into your bed?" Miss Dumont's mouth worked, trying to frame denials. Imhotep's relentless stare forced her to submit. Bowing her head, Miss Dumont nodded. "So." Imhotep scowled. "I have all the more reason to kill him." "She lied even to him, my Prince." Julia shrank back as Imhotep turned to glare at her. "She came to him wearing my face, my body. More of her sorcery. She knew she could not tempt him as herself, so she used his desire for me against him." Imhotep stared at her, watching for any sign of a lie. Julia kept her eyes down, but glanced up at him from under her lashes, radiating truthfulness. Above her head she heard a metallic click. She sincerely hoped it was the safety on Routier's pistol. Imhotep patted Julia on the head, ruffling her hair as he might pet a favorite hound. "A good effort, little maid, but you are mistaken." He leaned over to speak directly into Julia's ear. "I do not believe you." Speechless with fright, Julia kept still, praying Routier fired the shots that would free Ardeth Bey before it was too late. "My Prince!" Miss Dumont trilled. "My love! You do see past her lies!" His smile growing wider, Imhotep turned his piercing gaze on Miss Dumont. "I see through all lies, including yours. You are not my beloved. You are not Anck-su-Namun. You are nothing. Nothing but a creature made of potions and daydreams and vanity." Miss Dumont shrank back from him. "You dare invoke the name of my beloved." Imhotep took one step after another toward Miss Dumont, driving her backward before him until she stood trapped between him and the sacrificial altar. "You dare pretend to be the vehicle of her reincarnation. You, who are nothing!" Miss Dumont rallied. She drew herself up. With many years' experience of telling off the lower classes in London, she looked down her nose at Imhotep. "I, sir, am a priestess of Isis herself! You have me to thank for delivering you from thank for delivering you from the curse of undeath!"

Imhotep inclined his bald head. "True. That alone would have earned you a considerable reward. And yet you thought you could deceive me. Why?"

"Permit me to point out a much more serious issue, my Prince." Miss Dumont composed herself, regaining some of her usual hauteur. "As I possess the spells that brought you back to life, so I also possess those spells that can strip you of your immortality. Perhaps that knowledge might persuade you to reevaluate your bargaining position."

Julia tore her gaze away from the fascinating spectacle of Miss Dumont's frosty outrage meeting Imhotep's amused contempt. Ardeth Bey strained at his bonds, trying to free himself, make as little noise as possible, and watch the scene before him.

Imhotep laughed softly, shaking his head. His right hand shot out, striking Miss Dumont across the cheek and flinging her back across the altar. She sprawled there, limp, her head hanging down off the other side of the marble slab. Now Imhotep turned toward Julia.

"Who are you, little maid?" he demanded. "Who are you that you would see this wretch fail in her deception?"

Julia shot a desperate glance at Ardeth Bey. The game was up. She was an instant away from death and Ardeth Bey not much farther. Time! She had to buy him more time!

"Who am I?" she cried, leaping to her feet. "I am Med-Jai! In this time and in this place, I am your mortal enemy!"

Imhotep seized the front of her blouse in one fist and shook her like a rag doll. "You lie, little maid. No Med-Jai would ever permit a woman to wear their mark."

All at once he let go. Julia staggered back, caught her heel on a stone and fell hard on her bottom. Imhotep stood over her, glaring down at her.

"Lie upon lie. What then is the truth?"

Overhead two shots rang out. Ardeth Bey flinched as the bullets struck the manacles around his wrists. The manacles fell away.

"Ardeth!" Julia screamed.

Imhotep glanced from Ardeth Bey to Routier who now came charging down the stone stairway. Imhotep bared his teeth in a hideous sneer. "They think they can save you. They are wrong!"

He bent to grasp Julia by her throat and hoisted her high into the air, leaving her feet kicking uselessly while she fought for breath.

Ardeth Bey snatched an antique sword from the hands of one of the ornamental statues and charged straight across the cavern toward Imhotep. The great blade rose and fell, severing Imhotep's arm at the shoulder. The flesh inside was revealed as corrupt, stinking and gelid and crawling with scarabs. Julia went on screaming, struggling to pry the severed hand and arm from her throat. Ardeth Bey wrenched them free and flung them aside, then clasped her to him and whirled around, putting his own body between her and Imhotep.

"Sheytana," he breathed. "Stubborn defiant disobedient wife. I should beat you."

Julia clung to him, holding on with all her strength. He crushed her to him, kissing her hair, then pushed her away.

"Go!" He kept his attention on Imhotep, giving Julia another push that sent her stumbling toward the stairway. "Tell the Brotherhood! They must know the Creature has returned!"

"Med-Jai," Imhotep sneered. He snatched up the stump of his severed arm and tried to fit it back into place. "You do not frighten me."

Ardeth Bey snarled at him. "Let me remedy your ignorance!"

He lunged at Imhotep, swinging at Imhotep's belly. Imhotep dodged easily.

Routier caught Julia by the arm and tugged her back toward the stairway. "Do as he says! This may be our only chance!"

Julia spotted the parchment scrolls piled up on the table near the altar. Catching Routier off balance, she dragged him with her.

"Bring Miss Dumont around!" she cried. "Only she can read the right spell!"

"Why would she help us?" Routier asked.

"Just do it!" Julia snapped. "The life you save might be your own!"

Imhotep struck at Ardeth Bey, laughing madly, feinting at him the way a cruel boy teased a trapped animal. Ardeth Bey met his taunts with the edge of the sword, hacking off bits of Imhotep almost faster than Imhotep could reattach them.

"Hold on, Ardeth!" Julia called. "It has to be here somewhere!"

Julia unrolled scroll after scroll, once again regretting her hieroglyphic illiteracy. She knew Anubis' cartouche would be all over the Book of the Dead, so she had to look for another cartouche, possibly Amon-Ra.

Imhotep made good on one of his feints and struck Ardeth Bey alongside the head, sending him reeling. Imhotep followed up the attack with more blows, hammering at Ardeth Bey's chest and belly.

"Hurry!" Routier held Miss Dumont's limp body across his lap, waving a small phial of blue glass beneath her nose. "The Med-Jai is done for!"

Julia cast her eyes upward. "If the gods owe me any favors, I'd very much like to collect!"

Miss Dumont groaned and slapped Routier's hand aside. She sat up, peering around her with bleary eyes. Julia grabbed a fistful of Miss Dumont's chiffon bodice and hauled her bodily toward the table.

"Find it! Find the lines from the Book of Life! We have to make him mortal before he kills us all!"

Miss Dumont looked from Julia to Routier to Ardeth Bey, who was still on his feet but staggering beneath Imhotep's relentless attack. Miss Dumont turned to the scrolls, fumbled among them, then seized one and freed the ribbons that tied it shut. Dropping the lower roller, she let the scroll unwind across the floor as she searched for what she sought. With a laugh both triumphant and evil, Miss Dumont thrust the scroll at Imhotep.

"Isis protects her own, O Prince! To strike her priestess is to strike the goddess herself!"

Miss Dumont began chanting, pronouncing the words of the spell.

A great thundering began overhead, a rending and tearing as if giant hands clutched at the stone above them, trying to tear it away. Great fissures opened in the ceiling above Imhotep. Routier dragged Julia to one side. Ardeth Bey stumbled back against the wall where his chains still dangled. Imhotep sprang toward the nearest shadows. The ceiling gave way, a crack opening wide enough to let the rosy light of dawn filter down into the torchlit cavern. Imhotep fled before the light. More cracks opened. More shafts of light speared down around him, caging him within their circle until the pure golden light of true sunrise could follow them.

Miss Dumont was on her knees, bowing and chanting, her face streaked with fresh tears. Imhotep snarled at her, raising one hand. A fresh shaft of sunlight speared down to stab his wrist. Imhotep struggled against its grip, cursing and thrashing. More and more of the golden hands shot down to seize him. When his entire body was covered in the translucent golden light, the light itself vanished, seeming to sink into his skin. Imhotep screamed, high and shrill. A tearing sound as of a thousand shredded sheets filled the cavern. The golden light shot out of Imhotep's eyes and mouth, taking with it some inner darkness. Imhotep collapsed, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth.

Julia was the first to recover.

"Kill him, Ardeth!" she screamed. "Kill him now!"

Ardeth Bey hefted his sword, gave his head a shake, then moved in on Imhotep, stepping carefully as he circled his prey. Imhotep touched his face and chest, then rose to his feet, staring at his bloodied hands with a look of bewilderment.

"Submit, Creature!" Ardeth Bey cried. "This will be a cleaner death than you deserve!"

Imhotep grabbed a spear from one of the statues and blocked Ardeth Bey's attack. They danced around each other, each seeking some opening in the other's guard. Julia could see Ardeth Bey slowing. He was winded, still injured, still dazed from the trance Miss Dumont had laid upon him. Even stripped of his powers, Imhotep still seemed fresh and vigorous. He struck with greater and greater accuracy.

Only stronger firepower would save Ardeth Bey now. Julia forced herself to break away from Routier and approach the dessicated bodies of Thomas and DiPaglia. Both had pistols still holstered on their belts, which meant both guns were fully loaded. How fitting that she should use their modern weapons to end this.

Imhotep jabbed Ardeth Bey in the belly, making him double over, then a solid whack on the chin knocked Ardeth Bey backward. A quick sweep with the spear knocked Ardeth Bey's legs out from under him. Ardeth Bey fell, striking his head hard on the cavern's rocky floor. The sword skittered away from his limp hand. Imhotep raised the spear, its point poised to plunge through Ardeth Bey's heart.

Julia sighted on the medallion hung around Imhotep's neck, resting just below his collarbones. She emptied all six chambers into Imhotep's bare chest, then dropped that pistol and drew DiPaglia's gun. Routier hovered behind her keeping safely to one side.

"Peace, mademoiselle," he said carefully, "This Imhotep is surely dead."

"Not dead enough!"

Imhotep remained poised over Ardeth Bey, staring down at the bullet holes in his chest. He looked up at Julia. Rage twisted his features into a horrid mask, then he smiled a last triumphant smile. He let himself fall, his dead weight bearing the spear down toward his final target.

Julia fell over sideways and fired upward. The hail of bullets struck Imhotep in the head and shoulders and slammed him backward. The spear fell from his hand to bounce once then rattle across the cavern floor. The echoes of its clatter slowly faded.

Julia half-crawled, half-stumbled to Ardeth Bey's side. His skin was pale, cool, still beaded with sweat. His heartbeat seemed too fast, too faint. Shock, concussion, internal injuries, possibly bleeding. . . .

A wail of profound grief tore through the cavern, making both Julia and Routier duck and raise their pistols. Miss Dumont stood amid the ruin of her ritual, sobbing and moaning and crying out in Ancient Egyptian. She stumbled over to what was left of Imhotep. Her shrieks grew more frenzied.

"What are we to do with her?" Routier asked.

Julia watched her own hands pluck six bullets from the loops on Routier's belt, then obey the ritual motions of reloading. She took a breath, wiped her eyes, then got to her feet. "Leave her to me."

Julia strode over to Miss Dumont and spun her around so they were face to face. A brisk slap silenced Miss Dumont's blubbering, but only for a moment.

"You killed him," Miss Dumont wailed. "You killed my Prince! How can I ever be a goddess now?"

Julia glared into the blood-shot eyes ringed with smeared kohl staring out of the ruin of Miss Dumont's lovely face. Selfish even in her ruin. Four men and one monster lay dead because of her pipe dreams, with another all too likely to die. Julia fought to maintain her self-control, to keep her fighting instincts from taking over and exacting all the vengeance she craved.

"You want to be a goddess?"

Miss Dumont's eyes brightened. She nodded eagerly.

"You want to journey through the underworld and return in splendor, like so many goddesses have done?"

"Yes! Oh, yes!" Uncertainty clouded Miss Dumont's expression. "Can--can you show me the way?"

Through Julia's fog of anger and fear and sheer adrenalin, a note of pity crept in. Miss Dumont was already as good as dead once the Med-Jai learned she'd been the one to raise Imhotep. If the international press heard even a whisper of how a ragged band of desert nomads shot one of the wealthiest Ladies of the British Empire, the uproar would leave hundreds of bodies in its wake. Now it was more than just a matter of saving Ardeth Bey's life. Miss Dumont's thwarted vanity could well result in the annihilation of the Med-Jai after all.

Julia took Miss Dumont's arm and turned her toward the pool of black slime. "See that?"

Miss Dumont nodded.

"That's the gateway to the underworld. Go through there and you'll start your journey."

Miss Dumont straightened her costume, wiped the tears from her cheeks, ran one hand over her disheveled hair, then walked forward, straight into the evil black sludge than crested and bubbled at her approach. The oily black waters closed over her head, then settled into mirror stillness.

"Bon voyage," Julia whispered. "Give my regards to Sekhmet."

She shook off her melancholy and ran to Ardeth Bey. Blood from many minor wounds covered him. One mark across his left temple had darkened ominously. His breath was still shallow, his pulse uneven. Julia fetched the sword and used its edge to slice open the seam of her divided skirt.

"What are you doing?" Routier knelt beside Ardeth Bey. "He is too far gone, mademoiselle. There is little we can do."

Julia glared at Routier, feeling fury surge through her almost as intense as the night she became avatar for Sekhmet. She tore her divided skirt off just below the knee, then began ripping it into neat strips for bandages.

"We will do everything we can." Julia spat each word out separately as though they were bullets fired from her lips. "There's a Med-Jai camp not far from here. We'll take him there."

"'We'? Mademoiselle, what are you saying?"

Julia laid the bandages aside then grabbed Routier by the collar.

"Listen to me, Monsieur Routier." Her voice was dangerously calm. "To quote the late, unlamented Mr. Thomas, you owe me." She thrust her forefinger toward the open chest and the three shrunken, grisly corpses that lay beside it. "See them? See what Imhotep did to them? That could have been you. That would have been you, if I hadn't found a way to get you out of there in time."

Routier tried to speak, swallowed, then tried again. "Will you permit me one small question, mademoiselle?"

"One."

"I heard you tell that--that monster you are Med-Jai. What did you mean, mademoiselle? How can you, a British woman, be Med-Jai?"

"That, Monsieur Routier, is none of your business. Just take my word for it."

Julia stared down at Ardeth Bey, smoothing one stray curl back from where it lay across the tattoo on his cheek. From somewhere deep in her heart, the story Ardeth Bey told her came back to her. She found herself repeating the words he'd spoken.

"The night is the time of the djinn, the time of the devils, the time of darkness and evil. We watch, we Brothers of the light, we stand against the evil with steel and bone and blood. We are the line drawn in the sand. We are the guardians of the children who sleep safe in their beds each night. The children of the world are our children. We stand against the darkness, making way each night for the coming dawn."

Routier studied her in silence. "The children, you say." He sighed. "Very well, mademoiselle. I am yours to command. Only the worst kind of fool puts himself between a woman and her children."

END 


End file.
